Gramercy Park

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<Helen of Troy and Other Poems

For W. P.

The little park was filled with peace,
      The walks were carpeted with snow,
But every iron gate was locked.
      Lest if we entered, peace would go.

We circled it a dozen times,
      The wind was blowing from the sea,
I only felt your restless eyes
      Whose love was like a cloak for me.

Oh heavy gates that fate has locked
      To bar the joy we may not win,
Peace would go out forevermore
      If we should dare to enter in.